Our late Ah Kong, Ng Ngoh Tee with some of his trophies; 1940s |
Father’s Day may come and go and fathers may still be here or no longer with us, but we just go on treasuring them and making precious memories. A friend, who lost her dad to cancer four years ago, told me that she still misses him dearly, especially on his birthday and on Father’s Day. To cherish our fondest memories of him, we have established an annual dinner date on his death anniversary to celebrate his life at his favourite restaurant!
Newspaper article on Ah Kong written by Bobby Chee that I found in a cupboard at home |
While cleaning out a cupboard at home recently, I discovered
an old newspaper cutting written about my Ah
Kong or grandfather shortly after his demise on 30 March 1980. As I re-read the yellowed newsprint paper, I
vividly recalled that day because I was on afternoon shift during the 33 days
when he was in the Officers Ward of the then Johor Baru General Hospital. I was at his bedside when he breathed his
last and can remember making that phone call home from a public phone in the
lobby to inform the family of his demise because back then, nobody used
mobile-phones yet.
Ah Kong did not recover from his third stroke and the first
lines of that article by Bobby Chee dated 16 April 1980 read, “The champion maker
is dead.” Chee said, “Old timers will
learn with regret the death of Mr Ng Ngoh Tee, one of the greatest badminton
players Johore has ever produced.” [At
that time, the spelling for Johor was with an “e” as in Johore.] Chee went on to say, “Johore has certainly
lost a great badminton pioneer… He has trained a long line of champions since
the forties.”
It’s been 33 years since his passing but to this day, Johor
Baru folks familiar with Ah Kong would still refer to mum as “anak Ngoh Tee” or
a child of Ngoh Tee, when they happened to meet up. It fascinates me to hear this because traditionally,
it is common to link a person’s identity to his father reputation. It was also recently that I discovered that Ah
Kong was thus named, Ngoh meaning
fifth in Teochew and Tee for younger
brother because he was the fifth among his brothers.
Ah Kong with his beautiful daughters, [L to R] Sylvia, Lily, Lucy, Annie and Polly |
I had the privilege of experiencing Ah Kong in my childhood
and understand that while he was quite an Anglophile who decided to register
all his children with English names, he was still big on culture and
traditions. He and grandma often had
movie dates to watch Teochew opera movies at Capitol or Broadway theatres and
they would walk downtown and back quite safely from our house at 154 Jalan NgeeHeng. After his retirement, I remember
how Ah Kong used to stretch out on his reclining chair to listen to Teochew
operas from long-play vinyl records and later when he went about watering his
orchids, he would be humming those classic tunes!
As grandchildren living with our grandparents to attend
nearby schools, my siblings, cousins and I were on the receiving end of Ah
Kong’s goodwill and generosity. On
weekends, after we have completed our homework and assigned household chores,
he would take us for morning shows at Rex or Lido theatres at Jalan Wong Ah
Fook and I was always thrilled to watch movie trailers on the big screen before
the main feature, usually a cowboy story set in the Wild West. Other treats was our pick of sweets like
Fruit Gums or Mentos Mints from the snack stall and the unforgettable to and
fro walk that gave us an interesting view and taste of the stink of JB’s infamous
Segget River!
Ah Kong with some of his grandchildren at 154 Jalan Ngee Heng [side of badminton court]; Peggy is at back row center |
While Ah Kong was Johor badminton champion in the 1920s and
1930s and he trained champions in his Companion Badminton Party since the 1940s,
he also encouraged us in the game by modifying rackets into shorter shaft
lengths to match our heights. I remember
how Ah Kong used to sit on the umpire’s chair to keep score and sometimes he
would partner one of us kids to play a doubles game and send us running around
the court with his tricky cross-court strokes.
One of my fondest memories of Ah Kong is how he would joke that he could
beat us even when he played with one hand tied behind!
Ah Kong’s passion for the game clearly influenced the sports
careers of his 11 children and his badminton knowledge has been passed down
from one generation to the next as they trained together as sparring partners
and developed a winner’s mentality as a great badminton family in the
South. Just as Ah Kong will be forever
remembered as a father who wants the best out of his children, we can fondly
remember our fathers and honour them for their part in moulding us to be the
best we can be. Happy Father’s Day!
A version of this article was published in The New Straits Times, Streets Johor on 27 June 2013